


Needs Must

by kellifer_fic



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-06
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 00:58:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellifer_fic/pseuds/kellifer_fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An aftermath, an apology and some stale cigarettes</p>
            </blockquote>





	Needs Must

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beggars_always](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=beggars_always).



"You're not supposed to be up," Eames says, watching Arthur slowly navigate the small living room.

"And yet," Arthur says, waves his hands as if to say, _ta da_.

"Yes, darling, you're physically capable of _getting_ up but you're not supposed to _be_ up," Eames says, trying to be patient but he's spent the better part of the last week and a half terrified out of his wits that Arthur was lying dead somewhere so it's starting to be a hard thing to keep up.

"I need to get the blood flowing," Arthur grumbles, touches a tentative hand to his head which is mostly mummified in bandages and tape.

"I think we've had enough blood flow from you," Eames says, temper fraying. He doesn't have anyone to take his anger out on because by the time he'd tracked Arthur down there wasn't anyone left.

Arthur had most inconveniently done away with the lot of them.

Eames supposes it was Arthur's right, considering he was the one that had been held captive, but Arthur hadn't even had the decency to leave _one_ bad guy alive for Eames to pummel and work out his frustrations.

"Boom tish," Arthur says, which doesn't exactly make sense, but Eames will forgive him considering the massive head wound and all. "We got any Captain Crunch?"

"I didn't have a chance to run to the corner store," Eames says, rolling his eyes. "What with the whole cross-country manhunt and all."

"You could've picked some up on the way back here. You managed to get the paper and cigarettes," Arthur says, staring pointedly at the spread Eames has on the table.

"The paper was on the doorstep this morning and these cigs are about a century old and were in the bottom of my duffel. Needs must," Eames snaps. He takes a few deep, calming breaths because he _really_ doesn't want to have a screaming match with Arthur right now and that's where they're headed.

It seems Arthur has some left over aggression begging for release too.

Eames thinks Arthur's spoiling for a fight, but at that moment Arthur's expression softens. He crosses the room, holding himself carefully like a brittle old man which hurts Eames' heart to see and when he finally reaches Eames, he just tucks a hand under Eames' jaw and tilts his face up.

"I'm sorry."

Eames just blinks at him for a moment because he wasn't expecting an apology. "You have nothing-"

"I do, actually," Arthur interrupts. "You told me that Pollifrone wasn't on the level but I trusted my informants over your gut."

"My gut was right."

"Your gut was right," Arthur agrees, leans down so he can plant a solid kiss to Eames' temple. "I will trust it in the future over any and all apparent common sense."

"Can I get that in writing?"


End file.
